In Search of a Love Story (Love Story Book One )

by Rachel Schurig

  “The rest of you then,” Elliot said, waving his hands dismissively. “Come on, I bet you and Chris know more about the outdoors than the whole club combined. I would think you’d be eager to get back to your roots a little bit.”

  “It does sound fun,” I said, suddenly remembering the real reason why I couldn’t go. “But I actually have plans with Greg.”

  “You see him, what, every night?” Elliot said, and there was definitely a little irritation in his voice. “You couldn’t reschedule?”

  “We’re going away,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry. It was going to be just a one-day thing, but we decided to take the whole weekend. Greg just booked a B&B.”

  Elliot was quiet for a moment. “Where are you going?” he finally said.

  “Wine tasting, out in the western part of the state. I guess there’s a bunch of wineries out there. Who knew, right?”

  Elliot looked at me for a moment, a strange expression on his face. “What?” I finally asked, self-conscious.

  “Nothing,” he muttered, looking back down at his food. “I’m just remembering that time you told me that wine snobs were some of the most pretentious people on earth.”

  “I never said that!”

  “I think your exact words were ‘whenever someone talks about the undertones of a wine, I want to laugh in their face’.”

  I blushed slightly. That actually did sound a little bit familiar.

  “That was before I knew anything about wine,” I said.

  “So Greg’s been teaching you how to be a true connoisseur?”

  Something about his tone made me feel defensive. “You can enjoy good wine without being a snob, you know.”

  Elliot just shrugged. “What do I know about it? I only drink cheap beer.” Suddenly he stood up, though his carrots weren’t even finished yet. I gaped at him in surprise. “I better get back. Lots of work to do.”

  “Hey,” I called out as he reached the door. “Are you mad at me?”

  He looked back at me, his expression unreadable. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  Without another word, he walked out, leaving me with a feeling of discomfort in my stomach, though I had no idea why.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “So, what’s this surprise?” I asked Greg, for about the tenth time since he had mentioned it on the phone that morning.

  He laughed, starting the car. “You’ll see in a minute.”

  Greg pulled out of the parking lot of my apartment building and headed north. Traffic was heavy, being rush hour, so I relaxed back into my seat, not knowing how long it would take us to get to wherever we were going. “Music?” Greg asked.

  “Sure.”

  He leaned forward and turned on the radio. Not surprisingly, it was tuned to a classical station. Greg pretty much listened to classical music exclusively. Sometimes he added a little jazz, and, on rare occasions, the Beatles. Usually I found his taste to be relaxing, if not altogether exciting.

  “Long day at work?” he asked, noticing how quiet I was.

  “Yeah, pretty long. Glad it’s almost the weekend.”

  “Me too.” He took his eyes off the road to smile at me. “We’re going to have a great time.”

  “What’s the B&B like?”

  “It got very good reviews on TripAdvisor,” Greg said, signaling and changing lanes. Good reviews were important to Greg. “And one of my work associates has been there, said it’s the best inn on the west coast. Oh, that reminds me. A friend of mine, Tom Johnson—we work together?”

  “Oh, yeah.” The name sounded vaguely familiar to me.

  “Well I was telling Tom about our trip, and he said he and his wife had been meaning to get away for a while. He thought it would be nice to surprise her with a weekend away. What would you think about them joining us?”

  “Um…” I had no idea how to respond. Would it be rude to say no? I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t interested in meeting his friends. At the same time, this was our first weekend away together.

  “We wouldn’t be together all that very much,” he said, taking my hand across the gearshift. “I want you all to myself as much as possible. But I thought it might be nice for us to have some company for dinner one night, and maybe on one of the tours. What do you think?”

  “Well, that sounds fine,” I said. When he put it that way, it didn’t sound like all that big of a deal. It would be silly to make a thing about it.

  “Good,” Greg said, kissing my hand. “Tom’s wife is Angie. And she’s really great. I think the two of you will have a lot in common. Maybe Tom and I can squeeze in a game of golf and you girls could go to the spa.”

  “The spa sounds nice,” I said, smiling at him. “It would be nice to get a massage instead of always being the one to give them.”

  Greg laughed. “You poor thing. Maybe I’ll give you a massage later.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, making me laugh. A moment later, I realized where we were going.

  “Somerset?” I asked. “The big surprise is the mall?”

  “Not the mall!” he laughed, pulling straight up to the valet line. “It’s what’s inside the mall.”

  The valet approached Greg’s window, handing him a ticket and taking his key. Before I even had my seatbelt off, a second valet was at my side, opening the door for me. I thanked him and got out of the car. From the curb, I could see several open spots within quick walking distance, but I knew better than to say anything. Greg always used valet.

  “So, what’s inside the mall?” I asked Greg as he came around to my side of the car to take my hand. “The suspense is killing me!”

  “Patience,” Greg said. He pulled me through the glass doors. Somerset was bustling and crowded, a mass of well-dressed people walking around on their cell phones, loaded down with carrier bags. Greg propelled me along until we reached the glass front of the BCBG store. Standing there was a stunningly attractive young woman, about my age, dressed in a smart black suit, a broad smile on her face.

  “You must be Greg and Emily!” she said, reaching out to take my hand. “I’m so excited to meet you both!”

  I looked up at Greg, totally confused, and he grinned at me. “This is your surprise!” he said. “Your own personal shopper for the afternoon!”

  I stared at him. A personal shopper? What was he talking about? Seeing that my confusion had not abated, Greg laughed. “This is Laura.” He gestured at the woman, who was still smiling at me. “I’ve hired her to help you pick out clothes. For our weekend away!”

  “Wow,” I said, feeling totally shocked by this development. Of all the presents I had ever received, this seemed like the strangest. How was I supposed to react to this?

  “We’re going to have so much fun,” Laura gushed. “What a lucky girl you are, I would just die if my boyfriend did something like this for me!”

  “I’m very lucky,” I stammered. “Um, Greg, could I just talk to you for a minute in private?”

  “Sure,” he said, still grinning like he was beyond pleased with himself. “Laura, will you excuse us?”

  “Of course,” she said, the smile never faltering. It was starting to creep me out a little bit. “Take your time.”

  I led Greg a few feet away and looked up at him, not sure what to say. How could I tell him how weirded out I was without being rude.

  “This feels like too much,” I told him finally. “It must be really expensive.”

  He waved his hands dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s something that I want to do for you.”

  “But…why? I mean, I have plenty of clothes. And it’s nice that you thought of a personal shopper, but it’s…I mean, I think I can pick out my own stuff, you know?”

  Greg’s smile didn’t alter, but a certain steeliness seemed to come over his face, almost like his features had hardened. “I know you’re capable of picking out your own clothes,” he said, and his voice sounded ever so slightly strained. “But a personal shopper can help take you to the next level
.”

  “What…what does that mean?”

  “Emily,” Greg sighed. “You dress very nicely. I can tell that you always put forth an effort, and I appreciate that. But you’re on a budget. I thought it would be nice for you to get a few pieces that would really serve you well. I really enjoy your company, and I want you around as much as possible. That means I’m going to be asking you to go to nice places, maybe even work functions. I just think you’ll be more comfortable in more appropriate clothes.”

  I felt color flood my cheeks. Was he saying that he was embarrassed to have me around?

  “Take this weekend, for example,” Greg said, squeezing my hands. “We’re going to be staying at a very nice inn with lots of classy people. Don’t you want to look and feel your best?”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling absolutely mortified.

  “So why don’t we go over and meet with Laura and have her help us pick out some nice things! It will be fun! Doesn’t every girl want to go on a fancy shopping spree? Honestly, I thought you would be jumping up and down at the mere mention of it.”

  Was I being totally spoiled here? It was very nice of him, what he was offering. The clothes in that BCBG boutique were bound to be more expensive and stylish than anything else I owned, even the nicer things I had taken to buying recently. To put up money like that, just for me, was really very sweet.

  As he took my hand and led me back to Laura, I tried to forget about what he had said about my clothes. More appropriate. It didn’t matter, really, it wasn’t like he was critiquing me. He probably just wanted to make sure I was comfortable. And, like he had said, what girl wouldn’t want an all-expenses-paid shopping spree?

  Me, a little voice said in my head. I don’t want one.

  But as Laura led me into the store and gushed about what looks she thought we could try to best suit my height and figure, I did my best to ignore the voice of protest in my head.

  * * *

  “Oh. My. God.” Ashley said, staring at me with her hands over her mouth. “I can’t even believe this. You are so lucky!”

  “Do you think so?” I asked, setting my bags down and plopping onto the couch. “I felt a little bit weird about it, to be honest.”

  “Weird?” she asked, sitting next to me. “Are you crazy?”

  I didn’t know how to describe it to her. The embarrassment I had felt, coupled with the uncomfortable feeling that Greg was dressing me up like a doll. None of it had sat well with me, though I tried to act grateful and not show my discomfort.

  “So what all did you get?” she asked when it was clear I wasn’t going to elaborate. She peered into the closest bag. “Oh, shit. Is that Donna Karan? Oh my God. I have to call Ryan. You’re going to try all of this on for us. I am so totally and completely jealous.”

  She jumped off the couch and went to fetch her cell phone. I heard her jabbering in the hallway and closed my eyes. It had been a really long night. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was feeling, or how to tell my friend about it, but I knew something was wrong here.

  “He’s on his way,” she said. “He did a U-turn in the middle of traffic. I think he’s almost as excited as I am!”

  “I’m gonna go make a drink,” I said. “Want anything?”

  “Sure,” she said, distracted. She was still peeking into bags. “I can’t believe I promised him I would wait till he got here to look. What was I thinking?”

  I went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of rum out of the freezer. I found a couple of diet cokes in the fridge and poured them out into glasses, adding a splash of rum to each. I looked down at mine for a moment, then added another splash. A big one. I took a big gulp, letting the heat of the rum burn my throat on the way down. I leaned my head against the cool fridge door and stood that way for a moment, my eyes closed.

  “Emily?”

  I looked up and saw Chris standing in the doorway, a worried look on his face. “You okay?”

  I forced a smile onto my face. “I’m fine,” I told him. “Just tired.” I held up my glass. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure.” He still looked worried, but he joined me at the kitchen table. “So Ash is out there freaking out about those clothes. She said Greg bought them for you?”

  I nodded, taking another drink. “Isn’t it sweet?” I tried to keep my voice light, happy. “He surprised me with a shopping spree. He even hired a personal shopper to help me.”

  “Wow.” Chris was still looking at me closely. “That sounds very nice of him. Did you have a good time?”

  “Of course,” I said, taking another long drink. “What girl wouldn’t love a personal shopping spree?”

  “True.” Chris took a sip of his own rum and Coke. “Most girls would.” He was quiet for a moment, watching me. “But I never thought of you as much of a shopping girl. In fact, I thought you hated shopping.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. Chris was right. Shopping had never been my thing. Since I had started dating Greg and letting Ryan and Ashley dress me up, I had found the whole fashion thing to be a lot more fun. I really did enjoy the expression that would come into Greg’s eyes when he thought I looked particularly nice. And it did give me a little boost of confidence when I left the house looking good. But still…in the master list of surprises that would make my day, a shopping spree would be pretty far down on the list.

  “He was just trying to be nice,” I said, wrapping my hands around the cool glass in front of me. “He thought I’d get a kick out of it.”

  “Does he know you don’t really dig shopping?” I could tell Chris was holding back, that he was choosing his words carefully. I thought about what he had told Brooke and wondered what he really thought about Greg and me.

  “I guess not,” I said. “I mean, the subject has never really come up.”

  “The subject of what your interests are? Hmm. I would have thought that would be one of the first things you covered in a new relationship.”

  I stared at Chris’s controlled face and felt a little dart of fear. His meaning was clear—Greg didn’t know me. But that was silly, wasn’t it? We had been spending nearly every day together for the last five weeks. Of course he knew me.

  Then why did he think you’d want to spend a whole day shopping?

  Before I could respond to Chris or to that annoying voice in my head, the front door banged open, and the sound of Ryan’s voice drifted back to the kitchen.

  “Get out here!” he called. “I’ve got to see this, you lucky little brat!”

  I forced a smile for Chris. “Don’t worry, okay? I had a good time with Greg, and I think it was really nice of him.” I stood and pointed at Chris’s drink. “That one was for Ash. You better pour her a new one.”

  I turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Chris sitting behind me. I could practically feel the excitement radiating out from the living room where Ashley and Ryan were waiting. Maybe if I tried very hard, I’d be able to feel a little bit of it myself.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “So, what do you think so far?”

  “It’s all very beautiful,” I said, peering out the window at the rolling fields of vines around us.

  “What about the wine?” Greg asked, taking his eyes off the road to glance at me. “Isn’t it fascinating, seeing the process like this?”

  “Uh…yes. I mean, absolutely.”

  Fascinating wasn’t exactly the word I would have used to describe our tours of the wineries. It was possible that I was actually a little bit bored.

  Ready to pull my hair out, bored out of my mind was more like it.

  Okay, so maybe I wasn’t having the best time of my life. I just never realized there were so many different kinds of grapes. Or so many different components that all had to be perfect in order for those grapes to turn into wine. Or so many different ridiculous, pretentious adjectives to describe wine. Woody undertones? Seriously? Who says crap like that?

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Greg was saying, and I immediately fel
t bad for my negative thoughts. He really had done everything within his power to make this a nice trip for me. After we had arrived at the B&B, he took me out to a lovely, fancy restaurant, just the two of us. And the room he had booked for us was really nice, with a giant king-sized bed and the most comfortable mattress and linens I had ever experienced. Seriously, it was like sleeping on a cloud.

  This morning, we had woken up early to start our winery tours. At first, I did think it was interesting. And the vineyards really were beautiful, row after row of grape vines stretching off as far as the eye could see. It was just, well, how much could you really talk about wine?

  A lot, I discovered. It was now three p.m., and we had only seen half of the total number of wineries Greg had scheduled for us. Luckily, we were heading back to the inn to meet up with Tom and Angie. Greg was looking forward to his golf game, and I was eager to be doing anything that wasn’t listening to some old dude with white hair and a tweed jacket drone on and on about the characteristics of his favorite vintage.

  “I really think you’re going to like Angie,” Greg said, as we pulled into the circular drive in front of the inn. “She reminds me of you quite a bit.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along very well,” I said. Greg had asked Angie to plan an afternoon of treatments at the spa for us. To be honest, I was pretty excited about it. I had never really experienced any kind of pampering. I hoped the company would live up to what I was sure would be a great experience.

  Greg handed his keys off to the valet and came around to open my car door. I reminded myself that it was a polite thing to do. There was no reason to feel so antsy that he wouldn’t let me open my own door once in a while. He had been raised as a gentleman, and I was lucky to have him.

  “Ah, here they are,” Greg said, smiling as he looked up to the front porch. “Tom! Good to see you, man!”

  I followed his gaze to catch sight of an attractive couple standing at the top of the stairs. The man, whom I assumed was Tom, looked like the fair version of Greg. They were equally tall, equally well built, and finely dressed in khakis and sport coats. The only real difference I could make out was Tom’s blond hair. Next to him stood a drop-dead gorgeous woman, a good six inches shorter than me, with highly teased blonde curls. She was smiling broadly as we approached, a heavy-looking sapphire necklace glinting in the sunlight on her neck.